


Archers of an Afterthought

by livrelibre



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Holly Poly, Light Angst, M/M, Moresomes, Multi, Pegging, Polyamory, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/F, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28705305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livrelibre/pseuds/livrelibre
Summary: Andy, with and without others, through the ages
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Lykon/Quynh | Noriko, Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Original Male Character(s), Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Other(s), Andy | Andromache/Booker | Sebastien/Nile Freeman/Joe | Yusuf/Nicky | Nicolo/Quynh | Noriko
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23
Collections: Holly Poly 2020





	Archers of an Afterthought

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/gifts).



> The historical accuracy here is dubious at best. This is mostly a few bits of light smut threaded together with some light angst and feels. Contains references to Lykon's death. Title from Andrew Bird's "Scythian Empire" because I needed a title. Thanks to s. for the speedy beta read; all remaining mistakes my own.

Andromache, sprawled across her throne with her legs spread wide, moaned into the mouth of the woman fondling her bare breasts and then shuddered and came, grinding up into the mouth of the other woman who’d bent her head to worship, until the dark heads under her hands jerked and Andromache let them both up. The supplicants gasped in just enough air to thank her for her largesse, slid off of her, and prostrated themselves, thanking their goddess for her favor. Andromache lazily waved a hand at an attendant to remove the women while her other handmaiden offered her a mug of beer. She drank deeply and surveyed the crowd of worshippers below the dais of her throne, eating and drinking, chanting and dancing, all in various states of undress and hoping to catch her eye and gain her blessing for a moment, if not a night. All of her followers were like beautiful cut flowers, blooming and enjoyed for a day or two from her perspective, and then dead and gone. Even in this crowd of worshippers dedicated to her, she would ultimately end up alone. She shivered slightly and her handmaiden draped her robe around Andromache’s shoulders, hands lingering in invitation. Andromache shook herself out of her mood and pulled the woman into her lap, her plush mouth and her warm weight at the juncture of Andromache’s thighs sending sparks up her spine, and gestured for her other attendant to send the next distraction to dance attendance on her.

  
\- - - -

  
Being the leader of a nomadic band was a much harder life than that of a goddess but it did have its perks, Andromache reflected as she shifted her hips forward and pressed the well-oiled olisbos further into the ass of Oricos, the young warrior on all fours in front of her. Her hum of pleasure as the base of the leather phallus pressed against her clit was drowned out by the louder, though muffled, moan from the man as her shifting pressed him further between the rock and a hard place of the olisbos in his ass and the cock of Ateas, her second in command, in his mouth. Ateas’ eyes grew heavy-lidded and she smacked Oricos’ ass just to hear and see their reactions again. Ateas smirked at her over Oricos’ head and set up a rhythm she picked up instantly that bounced Oricos between them to his evident delight. It was just like the rhythm of them riding together over the steppes and just as practiced, and she lost herself in it for a moment, feeling the heat build in her belly, until Ateas pulled Oricos off his cock, ignoring his needy whine. “Don’t be greedy. Let me have a chance at his ass.” She pretended to consider, quirking a skeptical eyebrow. “I don’t know. Do you think your cock is big enough after he’s had mine?” Ateas laughed and spat “Fuck you.” Andormache pulled out to another grumble and pushed Oricos over to Ateas, and unstrapped the olisbos while Ateas manhandled him onto his dick. “No, fuck him, I think.” She waited a moment until Oricos had adjusted to the still girthy stretch of Ateas and then swung astride him to ride again. Nowadays, she barely remembered her men, but she still remembered that rhythm.

  
\- - - -

  
After thousands of years, Andromache didn’t think there was anything really new she could learn about fighting or fucking, but that just goes to show that the universe has a way of keeping on surprising you, no matter how long you were in it. She’d fought through the centuries with all kinds of weapons and innumerable styles, and she’d similarly slept with just about every kind of person in almost every combination. But nothing had prepared her to do both of those things with the same people for centuries. It was one thing with companions for a night or few years or even decades, who eventually died bloody all at once, got sick, or grew older and slower and changed and died with the seasons. It took awhile, but with Quynh and Lykon, she first learned what it was to have people who were not only themselves but also extensions of herself, who were always there. Andromache knew that in a fight Lykon favored her right flank and Quynh her left and she didn’t have to see them to know they were covering her back. She was intimately familiar with the little half-hitched breath Quynh made right before she came and with the curve of Lykon’s cock in her. She grew used to being able to drag her fingernails down their backs and kiss smooth flesh minutes later and do it again and again until the grooves stayed a bit longer. She knew how their bodies moved together in every combination. More importantly, she knew how much Quynh loved rice wine and how wistful she got in her cups and the songs from her childhood she would sing then. She knew all of the tales from Lykon’s village and could recite them at night over the fire. They knew her favorite kind of baklava and how she preferred her wine and that she was ticklish around her ribs. They were a well-oiled machine, dancers in step, and just when she thought they’d be that way forever suddenly Lykon died. And she and Quynh continued on but there was always that hitch in their rhythm where their third should have been. Things were better when they found Yusuf and Nicolo, who were their own unit of two, but it was never the same. Andromache always knew she could put her foot down and suddenly be missing a partner in the dance. 

  
\- - - - 

  
When everything was over - after rescuing Booker from Quynh, after Quynh realized Andy was mortal and laid aside her revenge in favor of Andy’s final days, after the others realized that nothing could be crueler punishment than what Quynh and Booker had already gone through - they settled into a pattern (no matter how incredulous Nile was about it - “What? Y’all are just going to have sex about it and then you’re good? No harm, no foul. Sorry about all the kidnapping and betrayal and murdering each other over and over again?”). Andy laughed but that was kind of how it went. Booker dropped to his knees practically every time she looked at him, and she had walked in on him sandwiched between Joe and Nicky more than a few times (and stayed for some of them). She’d also seen him sitting at Quynh’s feet with a collar and leash on and decided to let them work that out themselves. She did get a chance to use that same collar and leash on Quynh and vice versa and decided that this was as good a way to work things out as any (“What are we going to do Nile? Go to therapy and say my long-lost ex came back and we have issues because I left her at the bottom of the ocean to die over and over for 500 years? How do we make up and integrate her into our five person immortal polycule?”). She eventually talked Nile around on that one - letting her use the collar and leash as well didn’t hurt, and she, Nile and Quynh also spent time testing the line between fighting and fucking. Nothing was quite that easy of course. One or more of them might disappear between missions, and there were tense silences, outright explosions, and more than a little more murder. But they were all still here for now - she was still here for now - and sometimes she was with all of them, sitting in the center of a king size bed like she used to on her throne in her goddess days, accepting the tribute of their devotion and the way they loved her in all her new mortality and old flaws. When she was sitting on Joe’s cock and sucking Nicky, with Quynh and Nile each at a breast and Booker between her legs, all of them giving her as much pleasure as her newly mortal body could take, she thought everything she’d done and been through was more than worth it. If she could spend the rest of the time allotted to her just like this, fighting with and loving these people, she would die happy and never alone again.


End file.
